It’s perhaps not surprising that I find myself seeking more and more intense BDSM experiences at the moment. My work and home lives seem full of unresolvable problems and BDSM has become a refuge, a way to be taken out of myself and renewed. The effect is temporary but, nonetheless, has become important to me, part of a coping mechanism.
You might expect that, for a masochist, this search for greater intensity would be all about more extreme forms of pain: harsher nipple clips, tighter rope, more strokes with a bigger cane. And there’s been some of that. My session with Miss Hunter, where she went at me hard with a succession of increasingly heavy tawses, fits that pattern. Elita slapping my face till she felt she really had to stop before the marks became too long lasting also had its own special intensity.
But the really intense experiences over the last few months, the ones that have left me deep inside myself, feeling rather than thinking, for days, have taken less obvious paths.
Bizarrely (though I realise others may have more experience of these things) the deepest, most memorable elements of my sessions over this period have been “not being hurt” and “not having an orgasm.”
NOT being hurt was more intense than the pain that preceded it.
NOT having an orgasm was more intense than the orgasm itself.
What the actual f… is going on here?
In both cases I was completely taken over by a single, compelling need; by my body’s or my mind’s desperate, all enveloping, aching, screaming demand for the thing it was being denied. Towards the end of a heavy caning I can reach a place where my mind has room only for the impact of the cane, everything else being driven out by the visceral, shocking intensity of it. I believe that this state is the source of the prolonged sense of untroubled peace that can follow such a session. It seems strange, deeply anomalous, that I reached that same place in both these “not” sessions, and enjoyed the same calm afterwards.
Isn’t that amazing? The absence of pain when I needed it pushed me so deep inside myself that I experienced the same cathartic mind-clearing I achieve from a judicial style caning. And, in a session where I had been whipped, tortured and violated, the thing that stays with me is needing, but not having, an orgasm.
I love that BDSM can still jump out at me and turn my world upside down, changing my understanding of my kinks and of my own makeup. I’m 60 and I feel like an adolescent boy who’s recently found that his cock gets hard! Just as he won’t be able to stop playing with it, I constantly want to experiment with all this new-found knowledge of myself.
It’s cool, that!
image from shutterstock
This post made me think of all I haven’t had in the past two years, and which I have been longing for SO much. Did it make my submission more intense? Not at first. Maybe now it is more intense, now I have finally ‘decided’ to be patient and wait for Master T to be better again; to want again what I want, to give me what I want. I know his dominance is not gone. I see it in small things, and that makes me stronger, but it hurts not to have what I want. I know this is not the same as what you describe above, but this thought came to mind reading this.
Rebel xox
Just TOTALLY seconding what Mrs Fever said above.
It seems to me that you describe the thrill of denial, typically associated with orgasm denial, which has an element of masochism, but it is also a way (perhaps the best way, in a right dynamic) to ramp up intensity. When that intensity spills into desperation, it becomes (from the point of view of the receiver of that desperation) heady indeed. For a moment, it feels like holding not merely someone’s extreme sensation in your hand (or even in your purely immaterial will — it’s doable at distance 😉 but their very life. Maybe it mimics that, in fact. And it’s glorious.
Now, denial of pain to a masochist would take it to another plane yet again, and thinking about the energy and dynamic of that is making my head spin: not just the need for pain and the intensity of denial, but potentially the tension between my own need to inflict it and the desire to experience the desperation resulting from curbing THAT need. Wow.
I love how you’ve gone deeper into this in your comment. The idea of “holding someone’s life in your hands in this type of situation might seem melodramatic but I like it. I have seldom felt more completely in Elita’s hands than in this scene, when she was denying what I most needed.
Hi B1
I’m neither a psychoanalyst or a wise man..
However isn’t masochism something you are born with?
I’m not sure what extremes you play to…
But even with my limited exposure to pain.. the clear headed, lightning blast, stress busting orgasmic ,endorphin rushes
for myself at least make it addictive and something I come back to time and time again.
I keep my kink private my wife is a very understanding person but I never do anything to jeopardise our family or relationship.. that to me is a given as I crave stability
But underneath all that I still get that urge towards hurting myself enough to get my little fix of pain.
Regards J.
That feeling of “desperately need” combined with the not-having is what drives a lot of chastity and tease/denial play(ers). And being the one who causes/controls those contradictory drives is a heady thing in itself.
So I get this. From a different vantage point, and in an alternate context, but applicable nonetheless.
You’ve expressed it well here.
And yes, it IS cool, that! 😉